


Holding on to Joy

by artsoupsoupart



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Gen, Hicsqueak, If You Squint - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:34:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24253672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artsoupsoupart/pseuds/artsoupsoupart
Summary: The 5 times Mildred hugs Hecate and the 1 time Hecate hugs Mildred.
Relationships: Hardbroom & Mildred Hubble, Hardbroom/Pentangle (Worst Witch)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 104





	Holding on to Joy

**Author's Note:**

> As always, all grammar and spelling mistakes are my own. And of course I don't own these characters.

1st

She and Enid have their disagreements. Mildred feels so deeply and finds it is necessary to do what’s right. Enid is rambunctious and a joker. Then Maud shows up and delivers the logic, calming down the situation. It’s a balance with the trio. Always. This time, though, feels different. Mildred and Enid have been arguing for three days straight. The spat started off with Enid trying to convince her friends to break into the potions’ room to play a prank on Ethel for the disaster she had caused yet again. She was going to spell Ethel’s cauldron and spoon to heat with no way to detect it in order to ruin the potion during class next day. With the constant trouble the girls get into (and the trouble they had already been in from the incident), Maud felt as though they should think of another way to enact their revenge. Enid not-so-politely disagreed. It isn’t until Mildred agreed with Maud that Enid really took offence, scoffing at her two friends, mumbling that they (mainly Mildred) never take her side. _“It’s always Maud’s way with you.”_ Mildred remembered her saying as the girl pushed passed the two of them.

They don’t sit next to each other in class. They don’t hang out under the stairwell during breaks. Enid shoots daggers at her and Mildred tries her hardest to get her to see that it was better they didn’t stir the cauldron. Maud has to sit between the two of them during meals. It’s ice cold between the two best friends and everyone notices. Hecate notices.

It is day four of the war between Mildred and Enid when their bickering reaches its limits. It’s during lunch and Maud sits between her two friends. The tension between them is at its thickest, not even an axe could split it. They sit in virtual silence and the entire hall seems just as quiet. Maud has had enough, at least of the deafening silence that speaks so loudly.

“Mildred,” She turns slightly towards her, but leans back as an unspoken invitation that Enid is also welcome in the conversation, though she doesn’t even glance towards them. “How do you think you did on the potions’ pop quiz today?”

The long-haired brunette begins to open her mouth when Enid interjects. “Probably mixed up her bat drool and her toad saliva and ruined it. As always.”

“Enid!”

Mildred stops Maud from saying anything else with a raise of her hand. “No, Maud it’s okay.” People are starting to look around at the girls. With a roll of her dark eyes, Mildred continues. “If she wants to be upset, she can be.”

That receives a scoff from her. “Oh, don’t explain what I can and can’t do or feel. You know what? I’ll just go. I’m not even hungry.” Enid stands and begins picking up her things to leave.

“Enid--”

“Let her go, it’s what she’s good at. Leaving.” Mildred mumbles, just loud enough for Enid and a few other girls to hear. It stops Enid in her tracks and has her turning to look back at Mildred. “She never wants to talk about what’s really bothering her. Spoiled your little prank and now you’re mad!” Mildred continues, getting bolder in her words, eyes blazing with anger as she stares back at Enid. “She simply causes trouble and runs away.”

“Oh, that’s rich for you to say! Who gets us in trouble constantly? I play my tricks, but you nearly destroy everyone and everything around you.” She yells back at her with a point of her finger. It has Mildred standing from her place, and Maud following her up.

The hands at Mildred’s sides clench into fists. “You would think after all this time you would get it, but you don’t Enid Nightshade. You should listen to us!”

“Really?!” Enid rolls her eyes. “You always take Maud’s side! In everything, Mildred! Never mine; you obviously aren’t my friend.”

“That’s not true and you know it! You just need to be less selfish!”

“Me? Selfish? Look. At. You!”

“Stop it you two!” Maud stands between the two of them, trying to calm them down in the middle of the great hall, her face red from embarrassment and some slight anger.

In that instance, a swirling figure appears between the two girls, accompanying the space with Maud. With a tense look on her features, Hecate Hardbroom completely forms, head snapping to Enid. “Miss Cackle’s office.” She turns to Mildred with a, “Now.” The girls give each other one last death stare before parting ways in different directions .

Hecate, still upset at the display, turns to the rest of the Great Hall. “Back to your meals, girls.” She gives Ada a look and receives a nod as they move to speak with the two students.

….

When Ada and Hecate enter the room, the two girls are standing practically back to back as to not see the other. The shorter woman gives Hecate a look over her glasses and then lets out a soft, slightly tired sigh. The two teachers move around them to the desk where Ada takes her seat with Hecate by her side. “So…” She looks between the two of them, motioning for them to sit. “Please explain why this outburst just occurred.”

There’s a brief moment where the girls say nothing. Seconds of trying to not make eye contact, fingers flexing and releasing, and an awkward shifting as they sit. It’s Mildred who starts first, recanting the last couple of days. Enid jumps in where necessary and the entire tale is put out in the air. The two teachers stare at them and it feels like hours have passed even though it was only a moment of silence. Miss Cackle gives them a few days of detention, one where they will have to work together and two where they will be given their own tasks, starting today.

“Mildred, you may go to the potion’s laboratory now. You will be assisting Miss Hardbroom during your free period.” She looked to her. “Enid, you and I are not finished with our discussion.” 

After a couple _Yes, Miss Cackle_ ’s, Hecate transfers Mildred to the potions laboratory where the girl stands awkwardly, ready for punishment. Miss Hardbroom studies Mildred’s face, which is shifting between anger, embarrassment, sadness, and frustration. She can’t help but see the similarities in how she had felt at that age, arguing with Pippa.

With a clearing of her throat, she rapidly sounds off a list of ingredients that the girl needs to get after procuring a cauldron. Mildred nods her head and gets to work. Intense brown eyes watch her (though Mildred doesn’t feel it), wondering how to approach the topic. Hecate doesn’t have to wait long before Mildred is mumbling to herself about her frustration. More than once the teacher uses her magic to guide the girl’s hand to a different ingredient, a disapproving look on her face that meets innocent and apologetic eyes.

They work mostly in silence for some time until Mildred mumbles that she’ll never speak to Enid again. She sounds so sure, so confident in her words though there are obvious tears in her eyes. Hecate pauses behind her, a brow raising as she listens to the girl murmur to herself, hurt and anger present in her tone. It reminds her of someone, someone who chose to be alone because it was better than ever feeling close to anyone, it was better than having a best friend you would inevitably let down. Still, Hecate doesn’t say anything, not at that moment at least.

No, it isn’t until Mildred has completed the tedious task Hecate has set her to and cleaned up that the teacher clears her throat. “Mildred Hubble,” she starts. The younger brunette raises her eyes which are slightly red and puffy, and Hecate has to turn away and busy herself with cataloguing the various ingredients in the room. “Mistakes are easily made in the moment. Apologies are not.”

“You think I should apologize to Enid?”

With her back to Mildred, she answers. “I think you should speak with her. Friends – true friends, Mildred – are hard to come by, harder to keep, but… immensely easy to lose.” The girl just looks at her as if she’s searching for something in the stiff posture and awkwardness of her teacher.

And apparently, she finds it because then she’s throwing her arms around Hecate. It’s strange and uncomfortable, but it’s what Mildred needs. The tall brunette tilts her nose a little higher and sends the student off to dinner, who bounds off with a pep in her step that wasn’t there before.

* * *

2nd

When she had entered the room, she knew exactly what she needed to do. Throwing commands of what she needed, she magicked a cauldron and began her work. Mixing the ingredients were second nature even as it broke her heart. Her heart would heal, eventually, maybe, but she needed to fix this, fix everything right now. Indigo Moon, her first friend and one of the great fears in her life, would be sent back to be found by someone who cared for her then. _I do not want you here._ It’s true. She did at one point and then she didn’t. She doesn’t. And just like that Indigo disappeared, sent back in time with no memories. To her mother. As she explained her reasoning for sending Indigo back to Mildred, Maud, and Ada, she left out the detail of what exactly she requested of the Great Wizard that would bring her pity, for she did not, does not, desire such a feeling from anyone.

That is until Ada brings her the scroll and she asks her to read it aloud. Exactly as it is written. 

_Dear Miss Hardbroom,_

_I received your letter and there is no need for a staff visit. I am more than happy to approve your request to be witching guardian to Indigo Moon. I believe you will make a wonderful parent._

Of course, Mildred Hubble hears it. Of course, Hecate pushes down her feelings and sets the girl with the task of clearing out Indigo’s room, silently dismissing any further discussion. With Ada out of the room, leaving Mildred and Hecate to their own devices, the potions teacher can’t help but lose her bearings for a brief moment as she tries to remember where the packing crate is.

“It’s not sad that she’s gone. Is it? I mean she’s where she’s meant to be. It’s not sad that she won’t grow up to be a witch if she won’t even remember there are witches. It’s not sad, is it?”

She can’t meet the girl’s eyes as she speaks, “Entirely correct. Now, the crate.” She’s frazzled and there’s too much annoyance and too many feelings and she’s struggling to keep it in as Felicity comes into the room to tell her there’s yet another non-magical parent here for their magical child. She’ll deal with it.

When she materializes, she starts her apologies for the wait, but she falters because of _her_. The same woman she had just sent away as a teenager standing in Ada Cackle’s office with a child who is her spitting image. Indigo Moon.

She transfers Mildred to the room to show Azura around. Indigo and Azura. Blue. The opposite of their bubbly personalities. They really shine yellow or maybe a marigold, or some blend of vibrant colors like a sunset on a lake at the end of a warm summer day. _Last one to the top of the tower gets turned to custard._ Indigo and Mildred make eye contact before the two girls run off to get settled. Hecate must keep her composure, her professionalism. She busies herself getting the paperwork Indigo – Miss Moon – will need to read over. _Because she doesn’t remember,_ she thinks to herself as the curly haired woman looks around the room. And as politely as she can, Hecate sends her out, sends her away one last time. 

And then she’s alone once again with her thoughts. She must teach the daughter of the woman she might still want to be friends with, whose life she stole for thirty years but somehow gave back. _Happy birthday, Indigo Moon._ Hecate feels sick. She’s grown pale standing in this office and she’s starting to lose her breath. Light beads of sweat pull at her hairline and make her palms sweaty. Hecate needs to breathe, but how can she? How can she when she just looked her first friend, 30 years older with no recollection of who she is (or who Hecate is) and lied to her yet again. Hecate has essentially promised this Indigo Moon that she will teach her child but left out everything else.

_You seem familiar. Do we know each other?_ It plays over and over in her head. Thirty years ago, they knew each other. Over the past few months, they knew they would never be friends again. Now, Indigo knew nothing of Hecate, but Hecate knew everything about her. 

…

Hecate Hardbroom hasn’t left her the potions’ lab in hours. Her head has been throbbing somewhere between a pulse and a pound. She had spent two hours reorganizing, an hour and thirty-six minutes throwing ingredients into a cauldron with no rhyme or reason, and the last fifty-three staring off into space, lost in her own mind. She’s missed dinner. She’s missed nightly rounds. She’s missed her weekly call from Pippa.

She senses the girl long before she even to turns to scold her. “Mildred Hubble,” she begins.

But the girl interrupts her – something she has never done – with a “Detention yes, I know.” Hecate doesn’t have it in her to shoo the girl away. So, when Mildred takes a seat at the stool next to Hecate’s table, she doesn’t say anything, just continues looking straight ahead out the window on the other side of the classroom.

“It’s not sad,” the girl repeats the words she asked earlier. The older witch turns her head slightly, deep eyes staring peering at Mildred. “It isn’t. But it is okay if you… feel sad.”

“Mildred, you need to be in bed. It is past curfew.”

“I know.”

The brooding witch lets out a sigh, “Then go.”

She thinks she hears Mildred get up from the stool she had been sitting in. Hecate lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding when she hears Mildred’s soft voice say, “There’s just one thing I have to ask you, Miss Hardbroom.”

And this makes Hecate pause, hands pressed against an empty shelf as she tries to push down the same emotions she hasn’t let herself feel in decades.

“I know you pushed Pippa away.” That causes the teacher to stand straight, ramrod straight. The girl continues anyway. “I saw you push Indigo away. But, Miss Hardbroom, I don’t get it. The same person who made sure I wouldn’t lose one of my best friends seems fine with losing hers, seems fine with being mean and cruel and causing more hurt to the people she cares about but… but hurts herself even worse. Why?” Her brow scrunches tightly as she stares at her teacher.

“Mildred Hubble, you are a child.” It comes out stiffly. “You do not understand the things that one must do, the things one must sacrifice.”

“I understand that you cared about her. You _care_ about her. Why won’t you show it? That you’re hurt? You were going to do such a nice thing for your friend and then… then you didn’t and that’s okay because Indigo got to have a mother and a family and people who love her so much, but you can’t pretend to not be sad.” She still tries to get Hecate’s gaze, tries to break down one of the walls the older woman built up, at least a little. “It’s okay to be sad.”

A slim hand raises up to her face and she presses to fingers to her head, feeling a headache pool throughout her head. Mildred is right. She doesn’t want to admit that this child, this fifteen year old, could be so correct. Hecate stands, looks around her classroom, looks to the seat the Indigo occupied. She might as well be a statue in the same way Indigo had been, stuck in place, frozen not from a wish gone haywire but instead from emotions running rampant.

“Miss Hardbroom,” trails its way to her ears. It’s soft and a little timid, nothing like the power the girl had used before. She doesn’t say anything though. Doesn’t think there’s much of anything to say. Mildred Hubble does something she can count on one hand how many times it’s occurred. She wraps her arms around Hecate and gives her a hug.

“It’s okay to be sad.” And after a beat, when she doesn’t receive any notion that the woman will respond, Mildred adds, “Goodnight, Miss Hardbroom” and transfers to her room.

Hecate, alone once again, lets out a sob. She has to sit in her chair when her legs feel too week to keep her standing. Hecate cries and cries and feels until her head aches and she must get up and walk to her room.

* * *

3rd

Mildred doesn’t often stay at Cackle’s during the holidays. Most of the time she goes back home, back to her mother and her room, back to that familiar place where she’ll play video games and eat candy that doesn’t have magical side effects and watch movies until her eyes grow tired. Sometimes she visits Maud, or Enid when she’s not off traveling with her parents. Those trips don’t last long though. While Mildred loves magic, feels it in her heart so deeply, she loves normalcy of simply being home with her mother.

The first few weeks of this summer break, however, Julie Hubble is out of the country, her artwork having been noticed by some gallery owner in France, which means Mildred is staying at Cackle’s until she returns. Well, really, it was Mildred’s choice. She could’ve gone off with Maud or toured around a little with Enid, but she figured she’d work on her summer project instead. What better place would she be able to do magic.

It wasn’t unusual to be here, and it didn’t feel weird either. A couple of other girls also stayed behind, and a few teachers too. Miss Hardbroom is among one of them. With the lack of students in the castle, Mildred notices that she’s a bit freer. Her hair she still wears in a bun, but it’s low at her neck. Sometimes, when Miss Pentangle visits, she’ll wear her hair in a long and high ponytail, a tangle of bouncy waves which practically floats when she walks. It’s truly a sight.

Mildred likes to watch everyone who stayed behind, but Miss Hardbroom is by far the most interesting. The powerful witch follows a routine with perfect timing. She spends a lot of time on walks, Mildred figures Miss Hardbroom enjoys the outdoors. She collects and sorts an array of different ingredients with such precision, it’s mesmerizing to Mildred. So much so, that the young witch can’t help but occupy this free time studying and perfecting her project.

One particular night, Mildred is in the library, searching and scanning for the answers to the experiment she posed for herself. She isn’t having much luck, features in a deep frown as she turns page after page, coming up empty each time. She’s more of a visual learner. All the paragraphs of heaps of herbs and type of tongues and selection of scales has her confused. Every picture looks the same in her tired state, and it’s late and she should probably head to bed. Then she realizes she might be able to be a little more productive if she saw what she was working with. If she could feel it. But students weren’t allowed in classrooms after hours. Though, the young witch thinks to herself with a crooked grin, it isn’t really after hours is it? School isn’t in session. A quick peek into the potions’ lab wouldn’t hurt anyone.

So, she sneaks in, though the door is unlocked so really, she just cautiously walks in. The room is dark and quiet, the streaming light of the moon peeking through the large windows.

It’s hours that she’s in the potion’s lab, reading and collecting ingredients. She wasn’t focused for the first thirty minutes, jumping between nervous that Miss Hardbroom hadn’t come in yet and confused as to why she hadn’t. But then she gets lost in the scents and textures and colors of the ingredients and their uses. Her notebook fills up with bullet points and drawings.

And then she begins her revising, because it really is getting late now, and Mildred wants nothing more than to go to bed, to lay among lumps that somehow perfectly fit her body and helps her drift off to a peaceful sleep. Her eyes are bloodshot, and she yawns every few minutes. Yet, something inside of Mildred tells her she couldn’t stop until it was nearly perfect, or maybe until it was perfect. In the back on her mind, Ethel’s taunts play over and over. Her mistakes flash to the forefront. _You’re the worst witch, Mildred Hubble._

It has the young witch checking over the notes she has written on off-white paper. It’s correct, but it makes her take note of that still small voice that taunts her. She’ll revise again, she decides. A few more hours without sleep won’t hurt anyone. Mildred turns another page, heads to another section of the use of beetle’s shell as she takes notes in her spiral notebook. The young witch silently reminds herself to check over the notes then she’ll get some rest even as her heart begins to beat a little faster.

And that’s strange, isn’t it? She feels very calm, there’s no need for her heart to speed up just so. It’s very late at night, the only light illuminating through the windows, the lamps shining brightly. Miss Hardbroom hasn’t started her nightly take down of the night lamps. Mildred should be fast asleep; her heart rate should be slow and steady and calm. Instead, it pounds so hard Mildred thinks she can feel it through the muscle and skin of her being.

She tries to take a few breaths, tries to calm herself. She knows that emotions and magic don’t mix well. It is why chanting classes were so important. Sweat begins to pool at her forehead and Mildred swipes her hand across it with a sigh. She’s fine. _I’m fine_ , she tells herself as she continues mixing.

_You’re not from a witching family._ That thought makes her stop and press a hand to her chest, her heart speeding up double time and the young witch tears her eyes away from the papers and books in front of her. Her hands begin to shake. Mildred doesn’t recall if she’s ever felt this way before. As her breath begins to falter, to shorten, she feels like she’s choking and it’s all too much. Every failed spell and potion comes to the front of her mind and it swallows her whole.

Mildred steps away from the table of potions and notebooks before her, stumbling backwards until she plops down on the small steps in the classroom. _I’m going to fail. I fail at everything. I’m the worst witch_. Trembling palms press tightly against her eyes and she rocks slightly. They somehow make their way up to her forehead to tangle into dark locks as she tries to calm herself down with no success. Tears rapidly fill brown eyes and she chokes even more on her own breath. It terrifies her even more, has her head and heart forcefully pounding. Suddenly she’s not even in the classroom at all, but so deep in her own thoughts that she doesn’t even hear the person walk in.

…

Hecate can sense when people are in her potions’ lab. She has felt the presence of the girl in the room for the entire time. Normally, she would shoo anyone out, but it’s summer and she’s had a nice chat with Pippa (who convinced her to let Mildred do as she pleases). So, she lets her stay and secretly checks in on her just to make sure her classroom won’t be up in flames any time soon.

She’s just about to go to bed when she tunes into the room and something feels off. The atmosphere has shifted. It’s stiff and tense. It’s filled with something between fear and sorrow. Hecate closes her eyes and delves deeper into the sense and she realizes exactly what that is. Panic. Intense panic. Debilitating panic. A feeling the teacher knows all too well.

With a wave of her hand, Hecate materializes in the potions’ room. It takes a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, the candle Mildred had been using to see long died out. She finds the girl practically frozen on the steps of the classroom, slightly rocking back and forward, breathing hard through her nose. She stoops next her and tries to make eye contact.

“Mildred,” she tries, hoping it’ll get the girl’s attention. “Mildred Hubble, look at me.” Large, slim hands press to the sweaty, round cheeks of the girl’s face. Two pairs of brown eyes connect, one strong and sure, the other distant and glassy. Hecate sighs. The look on Mildred’s face is all too familiar to her, it has her heart breaking. “Look at me.”

Finally, Mildred’s eyes focus on Hecate’s. They’re still far away but coming back as she follows the sound. Hecate’s voice is soft in a way that Mildred had never heard before. The sound is dripping with honey and so sweet that Mildred willingly follows it. Her breath slows, the intense intakes moving from shallow to deep as the minutes pass by. Mildred forces those still terrible thought away, forces herself to come back to reality. Her palms press into Hecate’s wrists as she fights to come back.

With eyes still glassy, Mildred focuses on the line of Hecate’s face. The teacher’s nose is straight, her cheeks arched. She sees her mouth move but cannot make out the words for several minutes.

“Mildred, please. Name me five things you can see.” Young eyes close as she steels herself. She opens them to see Hecate. The brown orbs shift to see potion bottles, wooden stools, the pale rays of the moon, and the books on the table.

That seems to relax the teacher a bit because she’s following up with Mildred, asking her the four things she can hear, the three things she can smell, the two things she can taste, and the solitary thing she can feel.

“Your wrist,” Mildred mumbles. And she’s back. Mildred is back in the comfort of the potions’ lab and no longer in the terrifying subconscious of her mind. It’s dark and relaxing and she can feel the sweat on her forehead evaporate away. Her deep eyes finally settle on Miss Hardbroom and she gasps.

“I—” she starts but is stopped.

“No need to say anything. You must be exhausted.” Hecate simply states. “I’m going to transfer you to your room now, Mildred. What you’ve just gone through, well, you must be exhausted.” And for the first time Mildred realizes that she is utterly tired.

She says through dry and cracked lips, “I’m confused. What?”

“You’ve had a panic attack, Mildred. Something has upset you. May I transfer us now?”

Mildred blinks a few times then nods. In the split of a second, she and Miss Hardbroom are in her room. The older woman guides her through the motions of getting ready for bed. As she takes her braids down and smooths out her hair, Mildred notes the focus of brown eyes on her, but says nothing.

Hecate motions to the bed when Mildred finishes. It shocks the young girl that her teacher sits next to the bed after she has settled. Hecate is stiff, rigid as she sits on the bed, halfway turned away from Mildred. It’s Mildred’s soft voice that break through the silence.

“What… What happened just now?”

The teacher doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, a blink of an eye really. “You seem to have had some sort of panic attack, Mildred.” The two sit in silence a little longer before Hecate speaks again. “Can you recall what you were thinking before it happened.”

Mildred goes into the tale, about why she was in the room at all. Hecate does nothing but listen, which is strange. Normally, the teacher would scold and punish. Now, she simply listens. Mildred goes on and on, describes what she was feeling.

“I was…” Mildred trails off, a few defiant tears making their way down her cheeks. With a quickness only encouraged by her own embarrassment, she wraps her arms around Hecate, burying her face in the warm and surprising soft fabric of her clothes. “I was so afraid,” she mumbles. 

Hecate simply closes her eyes, knowing the feeling all too well. She lets Mildred find comfort in her, lets her stay in the embrace until the girl chooses to depart and lay down fully. “Well, now that is over. You should get your rest. And perhaps tomorrow do not work yourself so hard.” And with that, Hecate is gone from the room, leaving Mildred confused, but relaxed enough to go to bed.

…

Mildred doesn’t see Miss Hardbroom at breakfast. She doesn’t see her during her midmorning walk, nor does she see her during lunch. It is late in the afternoon when the teacher makes her appearance, transferring to Mildred as the girl sits atop the castle.

“I do suspect you’re feeling better, Mildred.” The young girl jumps at the surprise but nods her head anyway. Miss Hardbroom stands beside her in silence. It’s as if both of them are simply listening to the wind pass by them.

Mildred speaks first. “Thank you.”

The teacher’s eyes turn to look at her, but her body nor her head follows. “You’re welcome,” she mutters with a sniff. Then there is silence for a few more minutes, neither knowing what to sat to the other.

“How did you know what to do?”

Like always, Miss Hardbroom stiffens at the question. Anytime someone asks her a personal questions that’s her response, even as she’s grown at covering it. She clears her throat and informs, “An old friend used the trick to calm down.”

The duo falls back into a calm silence. They stay this way until it is time for dinner, and they transfer to the great hall to eat, Hecate choosing to sit across from the girl for the first time ever.

* * *

4th

Ada Cackle and Hecate Hardbroom rush into the great room of the Academy where Agatha’s whirlwind of magic swirled around and around, growing larger as it destroys anything in its path. They stand on either side of the room, arms stretched out wide towards the tornado of energy. They try with all their might for seconds, minutes, both struggling as time ticks on and the magic still wild.

“I can’t hold it much longer, Ada!”

The older woman strains, arms shaking wildly. “Me either! But we must, Hecate!”

Mildred, Maud, and Enid burst into the great hall, taken aback immediately as they see the destruction that Agatha has caused. It’s even worse, they see, outside of the castle. Stones and bricks have been thrown aside. The winds out there are just as bad as the ones in the building. The academy is coming down and coming down fast.

“We have to help them!” Mildred shouts to her friends.

Maud looks around, confused on what to do next. Enid questions loudly over the roar of magic, “How?”

The two teachers continue on with all their strength, all their magic, in an effort to stop the tornado of magic that is sucking the Academy into oblivion. Just then, Mildred remembers the spell that Agatha had chanted.

_From east to west_

_from worst to best,_

_destroy the academy of_

_the sister most blessed._

She gasps. “That’s it! Worst to best. I’m the worst witch, and HB is the best. I can help!”

“Millie, what?” Maud squints at the girl as she yells over the noise. “You’re not exactly the worst anymore.”

“But I was. Maybe… maybe…” She trails off before she runs over to Hecate, hand grasping her arm. The light of the magic glows vibrantly but dies down just as quickly as she appeared. _It worked._ But not enough. Brown eyes go wild as she thinks, time seeming to slow down when she gets the idea. Slender arms wrap around Hecate’s slim frame. The magic pours fiercely from Hecate, fluctuating in a bright glow of light. The tornado of magic begins to cease, lessening in power the tighter Mildred holds on to Hecate. The wind slows and the furniture begins to fall in place where they are. She’s stopping the magic. They are stopping it.

When Ada recovers, she sends a proud smile towards her pupil. “Thank you, Mildred,” she says.

“You’re welcome, Miss Cackle. Anything to save the school.”

Then the headmistress is shooing girls around and corralling the teachers to fixing up the castle. Miss Hardbroom turns to look at Mildred. Appreciation and thanks is written on her hard features. She sends a small smile (barely a tilt of the lips) towards Mildred before walking out to assist in the rebuilding.

* * *

5th

Chaos. That’s what this fight is. It is absolute destruction. The wind that blows is harsh, trees bending violently under Agatha’s – once Esmeralda’s – magic. Rocks and stones and pieces of the academy fly through the air, taking out anything in its path.

Mildred sees her get hit, sees the bright blue ray of light go right through her, sees her fall. She yells out a _No_ and her legs work on their own accord as she rushes to her. “Miss Hardbroom!” Mildred stumbles over earth that has been flung down and she dodges magic whizzing past her. When a large boulder lands in front of her path, blocking her way, she yelps backward. It’s then that she remembers she can transfer.

With a wave of her hand, she’s next to Miss Hardbroom. She yells for her as she crouches down. She repeats her name over and over as she tries to wake her, shaking bony shoulders.

“Mildred, look out!” Maud yells over the wind.

She looks up to see a large boulder barreling at her. It has her bracing for impact, pulling Hecate to her chest to protect her. There is no collision, no bang, no pain. Mildred opens an eye to see the boulder hovering above the duo, held up then flung toward the forest by the magic of one Miss Pippa Pentangle.

“Get her to the infirmary, Mildred. We’ll be fine here.”

Mildred nods. She is tired from the fighting and the running and she’s not sure she _should_ transfer, but she does. It is dangerous to transfer when she’s so exhausted, but it’ll be quicker. The witch musters up enough energy to wave her hand and move them through space to the infirmary. The nurses immediately get to work. Hecate isn’t the only witch or wizard who has taken a beating from Agatha and her dangerous crew Mildred notes as she looks around.

“She’s going to be okay, isn’t she?” Her voice is small, but it comes out with fervor. Nurse Spellbinder gives her a look. Mildred recognizes it instantly: pity.

“Mildred, we are going to do everything we can. If you need to, you can wait for us to finish up with her.”

She contemplates it, wants to be by Hecate’s side. But there’s a fight going on, and she thinks Miss Hardbroom would want her to continue on, to finish strong. She shakes her head gently, eyes not leaving from the doctors who are procuring salves and potions and beginning healing chants. “No, but I’ll be back.”

…

The light of the sun filtered through the open window and onto the closed eyes and calm features of a pale face. Hecate Hardbroom turns her head with a groan and a strong wince.

“Don’t move, darling.” And that sounds familiar. She tries to make out the voice that’s so far away. “You took a big hit.” She hears it under the faint ringing in her ears. Pippa. “We thought we lost you, Hiccup.”

Hecate can squint her eyes open now, can make out the fresh pink clothing Pippa is wearing. She doesn’t know how long she’s been out. Could be hours, days. Hopefully not weeks. Hecate supposes that they must have won, since she’s woken peacefully in what is obviously the infirmary.

“We?” Hecate asks, sighing at the press of a cool towel to her forehead. She hasn’t got a fever, but she is rather hot, so the feeling is welcomed.

“I was worried.” The blonde can’t help but press a soothing kiss to Hecate’s cheek. “Everyone in the school was worried: Ada, the students, the staff.” The ever pink clad woman removed the cloth and smoothed wayward locks back. “Mildred was especially. She brought you here, Hecate.”

Brown eyes grow wide. Hecate doesn’t even remember being hit. She definitely doesn’t remember Mildred Hubble having the strength to bring her to the infirmary. She is appreciative anyway. “I have to thank her.” It’s said as the witch is still gaining her wits. “Where is she?”

Pippa falters. She really hesitates and Hecate struggles to sit up in her fear that something must have happened. Pippa quickly recovers, presses a calming hand to the brunette’s shoulder. “She’s okay, Hiccup. She was badly hurt and had to sectioned off away from everyone. She caught a nasty infection.” Pippa’s own dark eyes fill with tears. “We didn’t think she would make it either, but she’s doing fine.”

…

Hecate has to stay in the infirmary for a couple more days. She wavers in and out of unconsciousness, still healing. The magic that had infiltrated her system was stronger than the nurses initially thought.

It’s the third day when she wakes from her slumber that she sees an awfully skinny and pale figure sitting in the corner of her eye. She turns her head to see her, the strongest student she thinks she’s every taught.

“Mildred?” it comes out covered in sleep.

The girl turns her head and the same bright smile plays on her face. “Miss Hardbroom, you’re awake!”

“Of course, I am. I should be saying that to you.”

The teenager smiles. “I passed out almost as soon as I left. I walked outside and fought a little, but I suppose I wore myself out. I got hit in the leg and I didn’t get to finish helping.” She continues on, talking about how (while she was completely exhausted) she continued to fight as long as she could, though it wasn’t long when she was hit.

Hecate stops her in the middle of her story, “You did everything you could. You tried, Mildred Hubble, and that will always make you a great witch.”

Mildred grins, finds comfort in the teacher’s kind words. They sit in a comfortable silence for a while. It’s Mildred who speaks first. “I snuck out to see you. You were always resting,” the girl confesses. They make eye contact. 

The teacher stiffens. There’s something in the young girl’s eyes. If Hecate let herself feel, really feel, she’d recognize the look as love. This child has a love for Hecate that extends from more than just her magical teacher. She truly cares for Hecate like Hecate does for her.

“You needed your rest. I’m glad you got it.”

Another long pause.

Hecate clears her throat and sits up a little straighter in her bed. “They told me you saved me.”

A distant fear fills normally bright eyes as Mildred recalls what might be the scariest thing she’s ever seen. “I didn’t know if I could transfer us both here, but I did it. I knew I had to risk it. I knew it was dangerous, but you were hurt.” And she says it with so much caution because had it been any other situation Hecate would have scolded the girl for being so reckless. She doesn’t though.

“Mildred, you were brave and strong. You acted as a witch, as a…” and she can’t believe she let the words fall from pink lips, “you acted as a friend.” And the young girl brightens at that. She stands from her chair and slips her slim fingers into Hecate’s if only to make sure she’s real and alive. Mildred had had a few nightmares remembering how still Hecate had been in her arms, how cold. Now, her palm is warm and her fingertips a bit cold and she’s definitely alive. She gives her hand a squeeze which is returned from the teacher. Mildred can’t help but lean a little towards Hecate. She pauses, hesitation written on her young features.

“You may hug me, Mildred.”

And she does. As best as she can, she wraps her lanky and still growing arms around Hecate’s shoulders. The older brunette realizes as she stiffens – such embraces still foreign to her even after all these years – how much Mildred has grown, as much in size as she has in maturity. It brings tears to her eyes. If Hecate accepts the hug (and even starts to return it, but stops herself), well it is for all the hard work Mildred has done for Cackle’s, for the teacher, but most importantly for herself.

Then Mildred is pulling away with a sigh. “I should get my rest.” Hecate agrees that she should, practically shooing the teenager away from her place in bed.

Hecate’s deep brown eyes follow the young witch as she makes her way across the room. She’s surprised when Mildred stops. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she says after turning and leaning against the frame of the door. Mildred sends the teacher a small smile, a mere upward tilt of her lips, and turns on her heels, leaving Hecate to rest and to get some necessary sleep herself.

* * *

6th

“Mom, stop fussing,” she swats blindly at the invading hands fixing her single French braid that flowed down to just above the middle of her back and traditional witching robes.

“I’m just fixing you up, so you look great, Millie-love,” Julie counters, hands still moving, placing pink and white flowers in the braid. Mildred knows her mother is just as nervous as she is. Probably more. Because today was the day that Mildred would graduate from Ravenwolf College of Witchcraft. In approximately 30 minutes, she would walk out to the ceremony and be a witch (specifically, the number 2 witch of her class). Officially. 

She thinks of Maud, who fell onto her balcony that day, 9 years ago. They’re best friends even still. The last four years only seeing Maud during holiday after being together essentially everyday was a weird change the duo had to get used to and still, they survived. Mildred turns toward the line behind her, eyes searching for her other best friend. When her gaze lands on Enid, her lips curve up into a smile. The curly haired girl throws up two thumbs and beams back at her. Her thoughts take her back to when Enid transferred to Ravenwolf from Weirdsister’s their second year after being offered a better sports scholarship. To say she had been lucky would be an understatement. She thrived in college in a way she didn’t at the academy. Sure, there were still shenanigans (especially when Enid arrived) but less so, and she definitely had better control of her magic.

Mildred turns back to Julie with an “Okay, mom” and the woman makes a bit more of a fuss at the flowers pinned high on her head before looking into her daughter’s still large eyes. She gives her a final big hug, tells her how proud she is and then she’s off to find her seat with the other parents, family, and friends. Mildred is left to wait in line, shuffling from foot to foot as she goes over her salutatorian chant in her mind.

…

“Mildred Hubble,” Hecate drawls out with a brow slightly raised brow. The young woman turns from her mom, bright and crooked smile on her face as she sees HB and Pippa, hand in hand.

“Miss Hardbroom. Miss Pentangle. Well met.” She bows gently, but still as awkward as when she first learned the greeting.

Her former teacher tuts , “You’re a college graduate now, Miss Hubble, I’m sure you realize your hand should be the other way.” 

The young woman quickly fixes her placement, palm turning outward. Pippa grins at the two of them and may or may not roll her eyes. She scolds her life partner, “Hecate...” before turning towards her. “Congratulations, Mildred. We’re so proud of you.”

“Yes, we are” the tall brunette sniffs and nods slightly. In that moment, Enid and Maud pop up, distracting the new graduate with congratulations and chatter. Pippa and Hecate give them their moment to be excited.

…

“Mildred?” Hecate implores when the girl is finally done with her greetings and thanks.

“Yes, Miss Hardbroom?”

There is a pause as she looks down at the girl, no woman, who has been her most painful headache and one of her most successful students. She takes note of how tall she’s gotten, just a bit shy from Hecate’s own height. They’ve always been so similar, haven’t they?

“Congratulations, again. I hope you know there is a lot of life ahead of you. You’ve always been a smart girl, passionate. Pippa said we’re proud of you, and we are, but I want you to know that _I_ am proud of you. You are really the second best witch.” At the that Mildred chuckles, for they (and everyone else) know that Hecate will always be the best. “Continue to do great things, Mildred.”

The young woman nods her head. Both of their eyes fill with tears that Hecate does better to hold back. When the teacher steps forward and envelops Mildred in a hug, it’s a surprise to both of them. Shocking yet welcome. It’s stiff for a second before they settle at the same time. Five seconds later, they pull apart, tear streaks on the younger woman’s face and her eyes red. She gives a water smile that Hecate raises her eyebrows at.

Hecate inhales sharply and lets out a “Well then,” and clears her throat. “Mildred Hubble, I do hope you continue to be as successful as I know you can be. Thank you for inviting Pippa and me.”

“Of course, Miss Hardbroom.”

And as the girl beams at her former teacher, her smile only grows when the older brunette says, “Hecate” and winks before walking away.

**Author's Note:**

> HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED IT! 
> 
> Boom! I used Cassandra Spellbinder again! Still don't know what she looks like but hey, at least now I know she's a nurse.  
> Part 4 was lame and short bc I really couldn't figure out what to write (I wrote that part last).  
> Leave a comment and a kudos please and if you want, you can hit me up on twitter @artsoupsoupart or on tumblr as lanassupportgroup.


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